Murder Knows No Boundaries

By George Encizo

Sometimes routine wasn’t always routine as Sheriff JD Pickins, and his deputies learned. What was supposed to be a routine 911 call ended up costing Pickens a deputy and turned out to be a double homicide. One that was outside the realm of humanity. Pickens was forced to divide his team and call for help from two retired homicide detectives. Not since a psychopath went on the warpath with a shotgun had there been such bloodshed in the county leaving scars that would last a long time. Murder Knows No Boundaries wasn’t meant for the faint of heart.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Gatekeeper Press
• Release date: Dec 26, 2019
• ISBN: 9781642377866

Book preview

CHAPTER 1

BEWARE, WHEN A messenger of ill will rears its ugly head as it did late one night on a deserted stretch of highway.

July 21, 2018

As one of his newest deputies, Sheriff, JD Pickens, assigned Jason Conlon to patrol county road 325 weekends from four in the afternoon until midnight. The highway wound through farm country and crossed into the next county. It was mostly used in the daytime by farmers and ranchers as an access road to their properties. Those drivers who used the highway at night complained that it was dangerous to travel because high school teenagers were using it as a drag racing strip. Conlon’s assignment was to act as a deterrent, and it seemed to be working.

Friday night went without an incident, but Saturday night around nine-thirty Conlon’s headlights shined on a deer in the road. He slowed to a stop and waited for the deer to cross, but it simply turned its head in Conlon’s direction and looked at him as if to say This is my territory and you’re infringing on it. Conlon turned on the flashers expecting the deer would move. When he turned the lights on, the dash cam automatically came on. Finally, the deer scampered off. Conlon decided it was a good time to pull to the side of the road and take a coffee break. His wife had filled the thermos she bought him as a present for graduating from the Florida Law Enforcement Academy.

Suddenly, a black vehicle sped past him and didn’t bother to slow down. Conlon turned the flashes back on and his brights. Then he radioed that he was in pursuit and chased after the vehicle. He caught up with it and signaled for the driver to pull over—which it did. Conlon radioed that he had pulled the vehicle over and did a license plate search to determine if it was a stolen vehicle. The plate belonged to Myra Peterson in Highlands County, Florida but it was for a 2004 Honda CRV. Conlon could see the vehicle he pulled over wasn’t a CRV and radioed the info to the dispatcher.

Conlon’s patrol car had the latest GPS, so the dispatcher knew precisely where Conlon’s location was. He also had a bodycam and shoulder radio. Both were turned on when he opened the door. The equipment was a new addition to all the patrol cars and was purchased by Sheriff Pickens, along with two deputies with the help of a law enforcement grant from the DOJ. With the additional deputies, Pickens now had five deputies, two sergeants, and a corporal. That was not many when compared to surrounding cities and counties.

Conlon used the car’s speaker and told the driver to roll down the window and place both hands out the window. After the driver did, Conlon eased himself from the patrol car, checking to make sure his bodycam was on. He used the radio clipped to his shoulder to let dispatch know he was approaching the other vehicle with his weapon out.

Conlon was nervous, but he had served three tours in Afghanistan and had been in many situations like this, so he remained calm, but alert.

Suddenly, the passenger’s door opened, and someone stepped out and fired at Conlon. One shot hit him center mass, and another hit him in the arm. Conlon fell backward but managed to get off a shot. Fortunately, Conlon was wearing his bulletproof vest as required at night by Sheriff Pickens for all his deputies. The shooter got back in the car, and the driver sped off, leaving Deputy Conlon on the ground. Conlon managed to radio 10:24—the code for an Officer Down.

The emergency operator immediately called for an ambulance and gave them the coordinates for Conlon’s location. Then she sent Deputy Lea Abrue, who was on duty to provide backup.

Since the Warfield office was the closest to where Conlon was, after calling for backup, the operator called Sergeant Mia Dunne, then called Sheriff JD Pickens.

Dunne was at home when she received the call and immediately left for the scene, knowing backup would be there.

Sergeant Dunne, an African American female, was married with two children, and a retired army military police officer. Dunne was a no-nonsense officer and a stickler for protocol. She had recently received a bump in paygrade. She knew Pickens would also arrive at the scene.

Sheriff JD Pickens was watching television with his wife, Dr. Marge Davids the county medical examiner, and his eleven-year-old daughter Sara when he received the call that an officer was down. The emergency call had gone right to his cell phone.

Pickens kissed his wife and daughter, grabbed his gun and holster, and drove to the scene following the GPS coordinates sent by the dispatcher.

* * *

When Pickens arrived at the scene, Sergeant Dunne and a deputy were there as were the EMTs who were working on Deputy Conlon. Pickens expected the worst as he walked over to speak to Dunne. He already had a limited number of deputies and couldn’t afford to lose Conlon. Pickens recalled his interview with the young man and how he admired that Conlon was a devoted family man. It was for that reason that Pickens had hired Conlon. He had also interviewed Conlon’s wife and noted her devotion to her husband and her support of his becoming a deputy assigned to Pickens. The one thing Pickens never expected was that he might have to one day tell her that her husband died in the line of duty. It would be the first time he had to inform a spouse of that.

Pickens greeted Dunne. How bad was it?

It’s not that bad, said Dunne. Pickens breathed a sigh of relief. The vest saved him, but his chest will be sore awhile. The EMTs bandaged his arm. Fortunately, it was only a flesh wound. Conlon is tough. He’ll survive this.

Is he up for talking?

Dunne pointed to the rear of the ambulance where Conlon sat with an EMT who was bandaging his arm.

Sure, but he may be a little embarrassed that it happened.

There’s nothing to be embarrassed about. He was just doing his job. Let’s talk to him.

Pickens and Dunne walked over to the ambulance.

Deputy Conlon shook his head. Sorry, Sheriff, I screwed up.

Pickens waved his hand. Hold on, Deputy, you didn’t screw up. You were doing your duty. There’s nothing to apologize for.

Conlon breathed a heavy sigh. I should have been more careful and told the driver to turn on the overhead light. If I had, I might’ve seen the passenger and been more cautious. Conlon breathed. I didn’t see whoever it was until they fired at me. The overhead light didn’t come on when they opened the door.

Hold on, Conlon, said Dunne. If the light didn’t come on, then they planned on attacking you. Dunne turned to Pickens. "It was deliberate."

I agree, said Pickens. We’ll review the dash cam and your bodycam footage later. Right now, you need to take the rest of the night off. Can you drive?

Conlon turned to the EMT.

It’s up to him, said the EMT. As long as he drives carefully.

Don’t worry, I will, said Conlon and stroked his chest. Shirley’s gonna be pissed when she sees my battle scars.

It could’ve been worse, Deputy, said Dunne.

Yeah, that’s what we said in Afghanistan after returning from a skirmish where no one got shot. Conlon shook his head. What I don’t understand was why they didn’t try to outrun me. They could have made it to the next county before I caught up to them.

Because, said Pickens, "as Sergeant Dunne said, it was deliberate. Don’t beat yourself up. Go home and be with your family. We’ll talk tomorrow if you’re up to it."

I’ll be up to it. It’s not my first close call. Shirley doesn’t know about those, but I guess I can’t keep this one from her, he said with a gesture toward his chest where bruises would be forming.

Conlon was twenty-seven years old. He and his wife, Shirley, had two children ages four and six, and Shirley, had one in the oven. He and Shirley married right after high school. After he mustered out of the army, Conlon enrolled in the Florida Law Enforcement Academy and had been hired by Pickens along with Lea Abrue, a twenty-three-year-old African American female. Conlon was three months out of the academy.

Wise decision, Deputy, said Dunne.

The EMT held up two fingers with the slug from Conlon’s vest. Here’s a souvenir for you.

I’ll take that, said Pickens as he took the slug. If it’s from a .38 revolver, there won’t be any casings. It’s evidence anyway, and I’ll need your vest. You can get a new one when you’re ready to go back on duty. Abrue will follow you home to make sure you get there. Oh, and we’ll need your bodycam and an incident report. Type one up tomorrow and send it to Billy with copies to Sergeant Dunne and me.

Will do, Sheriff.

Now go home, said Pickens.

Conlon stood. As he walked to his patrol car, Deputy Abrue followed him.

Way to go, rookie, said Abrue. Didn’t you learn anything in the academy? You should have waited for back up, especially if the overhead light wasn’t lit. Abrue grinned, You better not tell Shirley about the light.

Conlon shot her a bird. Shut up, rookie.

Both laughed, then got in their patrol cars, and Abrue followed Conlon home.

Pickens and Dunne used their flashlights to search the area and took pictures of the crime scene with their phones, including the drag marks the shooter’s vehicle left behind when it sped away from the scene.

Pickens checked his watch. It’s late, Sergeant. Let’s go home. We’ll process what we have tomorrow and get a criminalist to finish processing the scene. Come to my office in the morning.

Sure thing. Dunne blew out a sigh. Thank goodness you got that grant for the vests and the new equipment.

Yeah, thank goodness.

I think this may have been a planned attack on us. I’ll put my deputies on alert status.

Good idea. I’ll do the same. For now, if we patrol this stretch of road again, there’ll be two deputies in a car. Pickens frowned. Goodnight, Sergeant.

Goodnight, Sheriff.

Pickens watched Dunne drive away before starting his own vehicle.

Pickens decided instead of going home; he’d stop at the office and leave the slug and Conlon’s vest locked in his office. First thing in the morning, he’d get them to the medical examiner’s office for processing. The sheriff’s office didn’t have the resources to do forensics; that was the medical examiner’s role since only they had the equipment and personnel.

Pickens said goodnight to the dispatcher and told him he’d done a good job and that Conlon was going to be okay.

CHAPTER 2

WHEN PICKENS GOT home, Marge was waiting for him. Sarah was tucked in bed. Marge immediately noticed Pickens’ frown, something he did when he was wary. After over ten years of marriage, Pickens and Marge had learned to understand each other’s moods. Pickens was known to frown and for outbursts when he was angry or frustrated, whereas Marge was more logical and capable of seeing both sides of a situation.

Marge put her arms around him. He hugged her.

How bad was it? said Marge.

Pickens let out a deep breath. It could have been worse. Thank goodness Conlon had on his vest. He’ll be sore for a few days, especially with the wound to his arm.

But he’s going to be okay, right? asked Marge.

Yes. Pickens then told her what happened. I’m upset because if we don’t catch the guy, then it sends a message to the whole county that people can shoot at deputies with no consequences. Pickens exhaled. The sheriff’s office will lose their sense of authority. The county used to be peaceful. What happened to it? In just the past three years, we’ve had a serial killer who worked in my office and threatened my family. Then we find four bodies off Grange Road. One was a young mother murdered by her husband and dumped in a field like garbage. A teenager savagely killed his parents and ten-year-old sister, and buried them in the same field and then went on a rampage across the country with his partner killing others. Now, this—someone deliberately ambushed my deputy. Pickens shook his head. What’s next?

It seems worse than it is, said Marge. Those last two cases didn’t occur on your watch, but you solved them. She placed her hand on his cheek. You helped a mother and her two grandchildren have closure after twenty years. And you solved a thirty-year-old murder that ended the reign of two vicious serial killers. She rubbed his cheek. We’ll get through this. We always do.

Pickens kissed the palm of her hand. Yeah, I guess we will. Oh, I locked Deputy Conlon’s vest, his bodycam, and the slug from the weapon in my office. They’ll be safe until Monday when I can get them to you.

If you’d like, I can have someone get them tomorrow and start the forensics.

I wouldn’t mind, but I don’t want anyone to give up their weekend.

She squeezed his shoulder. I’ll do it myself.

Pickens placed his hand on her shoulder. Thanks, but what about Sarah? If you’re going to work, so am I.

She smiled. I’ll drop her off at your parents’ house. It will just be a short while. I don’t need much time to process the evidence. If you’d like, I can start the forensics or wait until Monday for the criminalists to do it.

Just process it. Let the criminalist do the forensics. Pickens smiled. Right now, I’d like to play football with the medical examiner and forget about tonight.

Let’s go quarterback and make sure you score a touchdown.

I’ll do better than a touchdown. I’ll even go for the two-point conversion.

Pickens took her hand and led her to their bedroom.

* * *

Sunday morning after breakfast, Pickens left for the office and Marge took Sarah to Pickens’s parents before going to Pickens’ office to retrieve the evidence.

Pickens was surprised to see Sergeant Amy Tucker and Corporal Billy Thompson at their desks. He guessed like him; they were not only shaken up about Conlon but also worried about themselves. It might explain why they were there.

Tucker was Pickens’ oldest deputy and recently given the title of Detective Sergeant. She was considered the mama bear by the other deputies because she was old enough to be their mother. Her streaked, dirty-blonde hair was always tied in a ponytail and tucked under a sheriff’s ball cap, and her nice figure made quite an impression in a uniform. She was also a licensed family counselor. Thompson had been promoted to corporal at the same time as Tucker made detective.

What are you two doing here? said Pickens.

Same thing as you, JD, said Amy. The Conlon thing and we’re as concerned as you are. Who’ll be the lead on the case, me or Sergeant Dunne?

It’s not a case yet. It’s an incident. And just to be clear, it’s not gonna be a pissing contest. Since Conlon works for Dunne, she’ll be involved. And since you’re our only detective, so will you. And Billy . . .

Billy interrupted him with a cough.

Corporal Thompson will work his computers. Marge’s . . .

Just then, Marge entered the room and coughed.

Pickens shook his head. Dr. Davids’ team will handle the forensics. Now, all three were grinning. I’m glad you think it’s funny because I don’t.

We don’t either, snapped Amy. Why do you think we’re here on Sunday? We’re a team, and when one of us is attacked, we’re all attacked.

Sheriff Pickens, said Marge, why don’t you give me that evidence from your office. She nodded toward his office.

Pickens turned, walked to his office, and unlocked the door.

Once inside the office, Marge said, JD, ease up. Can’t you tell they’re just as concerned as you? That’s why they’re here. They’re your team and a damn good one.

He pursed his lips. You’re right. I’m an asshole.

Yes, you are.

Pickens’ head snapped back.

But you’re my asshole. Now give me that evidence. He handed it to her. She took the vest and Conlon’s shells but handed the bodycam back to him. See if Billy can identify the shooter. She winked at him. Now do your job, Sheriff, and don’t apologize. Just let them know they’re on your team. She turned and left.

Pickens exhaled. Armed with Conlon’s bodycam, he left his office, strolled over to Billy, and handed him the bodycam.

Upload Conlon’s data and see if you can identify the shooter. Amy and I will start a board in case this wasn’t an isolated incident.

Pickens and Amy rolled out the whiteboard, and he wrote Shooting Incident 7/21/2018. Underneath that he wrote Deputy Justin Conlon.

Once we get the ballistics, we’ll add the caliber of weapon, and hopefully the forensics team will match the slug to a weapon used in another shooting, something that could help identify its owner.

If Billy identifies the shooter, said Amy, we’ll add a name.

Let’s hope so. Then you can do some detective work and get whoever it was. Sorry about before, Amy.

Don’t apologize. We’re all upset. Conlon’s a good guy and a family man. Whoever did this, we’ll find them. She gritted her teeth. It’s personal with us.

Unfortunately, Billy couldn’t identify the shooter from Conlon’s bodycam or the dash cam. The shooter’s arms concealed the face. And although he was able to identify the make of the vehicle as a Mercury Cougar, he couldn’t tell the year. All he knew was that it wasn’t older than 2002 since Mercury stopped making the Cougar after that. And then